Whispers of community flow through the trees across porches cooling apple pies
Whispering of traditions nearly lost
Urging in soft pillow pleas to gather, build a human network
And the call seduces, promising slower, easier days ahead
Yet all I find in these new communities is queasiness, an oily reaction to boundaries crossed, lookee-loos indulged, shallow connections curiously growing more shallow and shallower
Perhaps I lack the training to unearth the rich warmth of community. Perhaps it’s a degree or two too warm for me and yes I want my own cool pillow to find my piece of the peace we all deserve. I want to be left alone.
